


Emerald Vendetta

by UpAndComing



Category: Bloodshot (2020), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Midoriya Izuku, Hurt Todoroki Shouto, Major Character Injury, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpAndComing/pseuds/UpAndComing
Summary: Midoriya Izuku, a former Marine has been miraculously revived from death by a secret government organization that endows him with superhuman enhancements. Upon regaining his memories, he embarks on a mission to avenge his murdered wife.An AU of the 2020 Bloodshot movie using aged up BNHA Characters.
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Shinsou Hitoshi, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor & Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Shouto/Yaoyorozu Momo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All credit for the plot goes to the creators of the 2020 film, Bloodshot, and all the credit for the characters to the creators of Boku No My Hero Academia. Additionally, a great deal of the dialogue is pulled directly from the film. 
> 
> This is an aged-up, quirkless AU, which will follow the movie closely up until the end, where it will diverge greatly.
> 
> For anyone interested, the song mentioned throughout the story is called "Psycho Killer" by Talking Heads, and if you haven't seen Bloodshot, it might be worth listening to so you can get the vibe.

“Go for comms, Delta Two. Sitrep.”

“Ain’t looking good, LT. Soup sandwich in here. Four hostages down. Looks like they interrogated them and dumped the bodies here. Echo Two, give me a sitrep.”

“No sign of alpha target. Moving location.”

First Sergeant Midoriya Izuku stalks silently through the back alleys of Mombasa, Iran, rifle up. He pauses at the backdoor of a rundown building, taking note of the targets inside, and relays the info over the channel.

“Contact, building two, ground floor.”

He pounds twice on the door and quickly steps aside as its shredded by dozens of rounds of ammo. Midoriya plucks a grenade from his vest and tosses it through the opening left by gunfire, just as a command is issued over his comms-

“Bravo Six, hold on breach.”

Boom. Too late. 

“Roger that. Breaching now.”

Midoriya moves quickly but efficiently, dispatching the four remaining hostiles as his Lieutenant scrambles to accommodate. 

“Delta, Echo, hustle. Double time. Bravo’s on location… Bravo Six! I said hold on breach!” 

Midoriya continues through the building, eliminating two more men when he hears the ceiling creak in the silence left behind. There. He slinks up the staircase, swiftly reloading his ammo before taking out three more men. He tosses a tear gas canister in front of him to clear out any remaining and to obscure his entrance into the living quarters on the second floor. As he steps into the room, he is met with a disturbing sight, but one he is unfortunately not unaccustomed to. A man known to them by his alias, Stain, is standing in the middle of the room, tall, scarred, with wild black hair tied back by a red bandana. He is holding his gun to the head of their primary objective, a teenage girl with dirty silver hair, sitting stock still, eyes terrified and hopeless. This is Aizawa Eri, the daughter of a high ranking official in the secret service. 

“Drop your gun,” Stain demands. When Midoriya fails to immediately comply, he repeats, “I said, drop your gun!” Which he punctuates by thrusting the muzzle further into Eri’s skull.

Midoriya does a brief but thorough scan of the room, noting only an abundance of half-empty bottles of alcohol, and an old landline phone on his left, before moving to obey.

“All right. Take it easy… What do you want?”

“Helicopter. Now-” Stain’s bloodshot eyes shift nervously.

Over his radio, Midoriya hears a comrade, “On location. Building two.”

“-And tell them to Back! Off!”

Midoriya does. “Alpha One, stand down. We got this situation handled.”

“Rodger that. Holding.”

Stain is high-strung and distracted. Time to make his move. 

“If you want a helicopter, you gotta give me a phone.” His right hand drops subtly down by his holstered pistol.

“There.” Stain bobs his head to his right.

Midoriya glances briefly around as though looking for the proffered phone. 

“Where?”

“There.” And when Stain moves his gun off Eri’s head for a split second to gesture towards the phone Midoriya noted when he entered, he’s ready. 

He fires.

A grateful tear leaks out of Eri’s scarlet eye, and Midoriya’s team sweeps through the building behind him, relaying the scene to Lieutenant Kamihara.

“Bravo Six in sight. Alpha target secure.”

  


***

  


By the time their plane finally touches down in Italy, Midoriya is more than ready to get away from his teammates, as much as he loves them. His impulsive solo entrance has been the punchline of almost every sentence uttered by his friends. 

As they load the plane for take off: 

“One of you guys wanna give me a hand with this?” Midoriya requests. 

“Why? You’re practically a one-man army.” Tsu jests in with her typical deadpan expression. Kirishima cackles, but trots over to help him anyway.

On their way home: 

“Hey Shoji, can you grab me a water— oh. Never mind. Midoriya’s already halfway there.” Jirou deadpans. Midoriya rolls his eyes at their antics, but doesn’t say anything knowing he has a (well-earned) reputation for impulsivity.

When they arrive:

Midoriya can hear Kirishima exuberantly proclaiming his manliness to their mutual friend Kaminari, who was unable to accompany them due to a last-minute injury. The blonde shoots him two thumbs up jokingly.

Before he can make his escape, the group bands together one last time as they do after every mission. 

“No mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great!” Midoriya shouts.

“Duty first!” His teammates reply with equal passion.

  


***

  


After depositing his gear, he heads out of the hangar where he catches a sight that makes his heart jump and he shakes his head in gratitude and disbelief at how lucky he is. His wife is leaning against their olive green convertible wearing a white sundress; her honey-brown hair loose and glistening in the evening sun as she waits for him. Her bangs flutter against her rosy cheeks as she offers him a coy smile, before it breaks into bubbly laughter as he jogs up to her and she jumps into his arms. He spins her around, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo before setting her down, gazing into her milk chocolate eyes, and kissing her. She runs her soft hands through his bushy (and sweaty) forrest hair before pulling away. He whispers, “Ochako.” She replies, “I missed you.”

They ride with the top down towards their home on the Amalfi coast, enjoying the breeze and the company. They spend the evening strolling around the busy pier, hand in hand, listening to the seabirds and each other, as they recount their days apart. They dance on the beach outside their apartment, moonlight reflecting the passion in each other’s eyes. They retire to their bed.

  


***

  


Midoriya Izuku rises with the dawn, but rises alone. A note left by Ochako on their nightstand tells him she went to get them breakfast and will be back soon. Midoriya goes to the bathroom, washes his face, and is preparing shave when he hears the floorboards creak in the hallway outside their apartment door. 

“Baby?”

He turns the water off and steps aside. A dart crashes into the mirror where his image was reflected towards the door and three men enter in a misguided attempt to subdue him. He grabs the arm of the first man and smashes it against the wall, making it release its weapon. He throws the second man into the shower while he grapples with the third. As the second man flails in his grip, Midoriya throttles the first man unconscious and when he falls, Midoriya grabs one of the darts embedded in the mirror and dispatches the second man he was holding. The third one stumbles out of the shower and punches Midoriya in the chin, which has little effect. 

“Oh no-”

The second man barely has time to finish his lament before Midoriya throws him down over the toilet, shattering the porcelain and a few of the man’s bones in the process.

“Ochako…” Midoriya breaths as he charges out of their apartment, but nearly runs over a man as he rounds the corner to the hallway.

“What’s your problem?!” The stranger yells from his newfound position on the floor.

Midoriya elects to ignore him and continue in his search for his wife when he is hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. His muscles go limp, and he crashes gracelessly to the floor. As his eyes begin to close unwillingly, he catches a shock of faded blue hair and a pasty hand holding a syringe, as the man from the floor strolls up to his limp form.

“You all right, friend?” A sarcastic voice intones.

Darkness.

  


***

  


As his senses return slowly to him, Midoriya notes hazily that his vision is obscured by a sackcloth bag and also that he is freezing. He hears footsteps next to him before the bag is roughly removed. He shifts his hands but quickly realizes that his wrists and ankles are bound securely to the metal chair he is sitting on and that the chair itself is bolted to the floor. A quick glance around places him in a meat locker. Comforting. But before he has the opportunity to perform a more thorough sweep of the room, a door at the far end swings open. A vaguely familiar face enters. The man from the hallway. He dons a heavy black parka to match his socks-with-sandals clad feet, while the man guarding Midoriya fiddles with a radio on the table next to him. A low thrum echoes around the room and the blue-haired man begins to bop. Midoriya stares, stunned and mildly concerned, as his captor dances down the hallway to the music…

_"I can’t seem to face up to the facts._

_I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax._

_I can’t sleep cause my bed’s on fire._

_Don’t touch me; I’m a real live wire…"_

The chorus sounds as the man gets up in Midoriya’s face, lip-synching the words.

_"Psycho Killer…"_

The creep shuffles over to the radio and turns it down while Midoriya eyes him warily.

“Never gets old.”

“Who are you?” Midoriya finally asks the question that’s been on his mind the whole time.

“Who am I? I’m the guy that ruined your vacation. Name’s Shigaraki Tomura. So, that’s one for you. Now one for me. Who tipped you off about the hostages in Mombasa?”

Midoriya shifts in his seat but remains quiet.

“Right. I thought you might clam up. That’s why I brought a little extra motivation.”

The newly named Shigaraki whistles and a man with a gruesome scar running down his forehead drags a chair forward to rest in front of Midoriya. He also sets what looks to be an air compressor next to it, twisting it on. 

“Well, look who it is,” Shigaraki chuckles, and Midoriya’s heart stops as two men drag Ochako into the room. She’s gagged, mascara running, and hair a tangled mess, her light pink blouse torn and dirty. She looks scared, but her eyes flicker with lingering fire as she visibly tries to pull herself together for his sake.

The men shove her down in the chair before him, and Midoriya scrambles for something to say, anything, to get her out of this.

“She has nothing to do with this.”

“Once again then, who tipped you off?” Shigaraki demands.

“I don’t know, man. That’s not my job. I go where they point me.”

Visibly frustrated, Shigaraki grabs the bolt gun attached to the end of the hose on the compressor and squeezes the handle, shooting a sharpened stake out the end. A thinly veiled threat. He takes a step toward Ochako, grinning at Midoriya. 

“Hey, look at me,” Midoriya growls desperately.

Shigaraki ignores him, pressing the end of the nozzle against Ochako’s temple. She trembles slightly.

“Look at me!” He yells desperately. The man’s manic red eyes flicker towards him, one finger tapping against the handle teasingly.

“I don’t— I can’t answer cause I don’t know. If I knew, I would tell you! I don’t know! You could ask me anything, _anything_ else, but this I can’t tell you cause I don’t know!”

Midoriya’s heart feels like it’s about to explode while Shigaraki seems to consider his response.

“…Yeah, I believe you.” He pulls Ochako’s gag down and steps away. Midoriya releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Izu-“ Ochako gasps, “Izuku.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” He tries his best to reassure her.

His eyes catch a smirk on Shigaraki’s chapped lips as the man turns back to Ochako. He scratches his neck awkwardly, and, voice tainted with false sympathy, intones, “Bad news, baby. It’s not gonna be okay.”

Midoriya’s heart plummets. “NO!”

Ochako straightens up, sticking her chin up bravely and smiling at him, and Shigaraki moves swiftly and efficiently. 

_“…Psycho Killer…”_ the music haunts the silence.

Shigaraki drops the bolt gun, the clang breaking Midoriya’s eyes away from his wife’s limp body. He locks eyes with her murderer and jolts, straining every muscle in an attempt to free himself and avenger her. 

“Oh, you’re nothing.” His emerald eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting, promising retribution.

“You don’t even exist anymore. I swear, I will find you and end you!… You should kill me now, cause you won’t have a second chance.” 

Shigaraki Tomura purses his lips, nodding in thought and finally clicks the radio off. He pulls a pistol from his parka and the cold barrel lands between Midoriya’s eyes. 

“Thanks for the advice.”

Bang. 

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All credit for the plot goes to the creators of the 2020 film, Bloodshot, and all the credit for the characters to the creators of Boku No My Hero Academia. Additionally, a great deal of the dialogue is pulled directly from the film.
> 
> This is an aged-up, quirkless AU, which will follow the movie closely up until the end, where it will diverge greatly.
> 
> For anyone interested, the song mentioned throughout the story is called "Psycho Killer" by Talking Heads, and if you haven't seen Bloodshot, it might be worth listening to so you can get the vibe.

“Commence bioelectrical charge. Seventy-five percent. Full cycle.”

_The flatlined heart monitor chirps to life._

“Project Bloodshot procedure log, transfusion complete,” a deep voice intones.

Midoriya’s eyes flutter open. Blurry lights and shapes begin to take form. His body aches with phantom pain. 

“Subject awake and is stable,” a second voice murmurs. 

Midoriya shifts his eyes to the right in response to the noise, catching a glimpse of red and white. He finally notices the wires and tubes hooked to his arms and his disorientation mixes with panic in an instant as he scrambles to unhook himself, falling off the table in the process. The red-and-white blur melds into a face.

“Hey. Hey, look at me. You’re okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

A young man around his age kneels down to his level. He has unusual red and white hair split evenly down the middle and heterochromic eyes, his left one of which is marred by a large burn scar. But before Midoriya’s brain could even catch up with this information, he notes a metal implant in the other man’s chest. The device whirs gently and flutters open and closed. 

“Where am I?” Midoriya questions dizzily, before passing out.

  


***

  


Midoriya regains consciousness much calmer than the first time. The haze in his brain has faded somewhat, but still leaves him at a loss as he takes in his unfamiliar surroundings. He sits up just as the glass doors open to allow two people entry. 

“Awake and cognitive. This is— This is phenomenal.” A bear of a man with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes steps briskly into the room, straight towards Midoriya’s side. He is followed somewhat hesitantly by the strange-haired man from earlier, much younger than the first— around Midoriya’s age—but still unfamiliar.

“Do I know you guys?” He has to ask.

“I don’t think so.” The large man answers, somewhat awkwardly. “Welcome to RHT, Rising Heroes Technologies. I’m Dr. Todoroki Enji. You may call me Endeavor. And this,” He gestures to the younger man, “is my son and colleague, Todoroki Shouto. Now, look at me.” Endeavor shines a penlight in Midoriya’s eyes. “Dilation looks good. No sign of sub-macular hemorrhaging-”

Before he can continue, though, Midoriya catches sight of the hand holding the penlight, and it is not human. He reaches out hesitantly, touching the metal frame of an animatronic-like robotic arm. 

“All right, what happened to me? What am I doing here?”

“…Tell me, do you remember anything?” Endeavor questions instead.

“Anything’s kinda broad, don’t you think?”

“Of course. Let’s keep it simple. What about your name, rank, serial number?”

Midoriya glances over in disbelief, but the bi-colored Todoroki remains silent, face betraying nothing. 

“Sure. My name is…” His mind goes blank. What is happening? “Rank? Serial number?”

Endeavor now deems it suitable to explain. “Yes, your name is Midoriya Izuku, and your body was donated by the military.”

“My body?” 

“Yes, it was either us or six feet under, I’m afraid.”

Midoriya chuckles. “‘Six feet under,’ doc? I got some scars, but I’m not ready for the cemetery.”

Endeavor leans back slightly, sighing. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you got yourself killed.”

Midoriya turns disbelieving eyes on the only other occupant of the room. Todoroki avoids his gaze, taking interest in the floor. 

“Okay,” Midoriya decides. “I’ll play along. But if I died… somebody’s waiting for me to call ‘em. Somebody must be waiting for me to come home.”

“Uh,” Endeavor grimaces slightly, the expression looking out of place on his sharp features. “It’s difficult for me to tell you this. Um—”

“More difficult than telling someone they died?”

Endeavor looks mildly abashed, “Um…”

Todoroki finally breaks his silence. “The military only anonymously donates remains of soldiers who weren’t claimed by family.”

Endeavor glares at his son. 

“Sorry. Sometimes you just gotta rip off the Band-Aid. Helps to get through the pain a bit quicker.”

The doctor’s gaze returns to Midoriya, and, likely trying to salvage the young man’s sanity, offers, “But you don’t need a history to have a future… Listen to me. You’re the first we’ve successfully managed to bring back. And it has worked beautifully. You have been given something that nobody else has. A second chance.”

  


***

  


Midoriya stands with Endeavor and Todoroki in a glass elevator rising higher into the sunset and is surprised by the cityscape out the window. 

“Whoa. Not what I was expecting. What are we doing all the way out here, doc?”

The elevator dings, and the three step out into an expansive and expensive room, populated by high-test technology Midoriya is unfamiliar with. 

“RHT focuses on rebuilding the most important asset in the military: soldiers just like yourself. Endeavor guides him through the building, while Todoroki trails solemnly behind. 

Endeavor expounds, ”We are explorers on a new frontier. We develop everything from exoskeletal reconstruction, which makes soldiers faster and stronger, to neural prosthetics, which enhance the way they react. But you, my friend… you are the proof that we are leading the way in the greatest human advancement of all time.” As Midoriya struggles to wrap his head around all of this new information, Endeavor smirks, “Come, I’ll show you.” 

The three of them enter a separate, more secluded lab, and Endeavor asks, “May I?” indicating for Midoriya to hold out his hand. 

“Yeah, sure,” he does so, curious, only to retract it instantly as pain shoots through his palm. Endeavor has sliced deeply into it with a scalpel. He curls his fingers into a tight fist.

“What was that for, doc?!”

Endeavor just gestures again to his hand. 

Midoriya glances back and stares, shocked, as the split skin on his palm mends itself back together, glowing green and taking on a metallic sheen as it does so. What on earth is going on-

“Let me explain,” Endeavor interrupts his mental spiral, and gestures to a new device, “Place your hand here. Please,” He adds as an afterthought. “Now look at this.”

Midoriya turns to find a computer screen pulled up, projecting an enlarged image of the skin on his palm. As the video zooms in more and more, Midoriya makes out tiny robotic creatures scurrying around in feed. “Holy whoa… What are those things?”

“Biomechanical constructs. We call them ‘nanites.’ They intuitively enhance your biology. Most notably, they react very quickly to catastrophic injury, rebuilding damaged tissue,” Endeavor finishes, as the cut vanishes completely. 

“So those are in my blood?”

“They _are_ your blood,” Todoroki speaks up. 

Endeavor takes over once more. “We had some success applying them to single organ systems. So we thought it was time to try a full-body transfusion.”

“Of course you did.” Midoriya snarks, still holding his hand, disbelievingly. 

Midoriya catches the corner of Todoroki’s lip quirk up briefly before his father explains further, “Just like our own bodies need calories, the nanites need their own energy. And this lab supplies that. Obviously, the more effort they make, the more energy they consume.” The screen changes to show a small white mouse spasming on an observation table. A faint green light is centered around its middle. 

“What’s that glow?”

“That’s heat being generated by the nanites battling malignant cancer, trying to save that mouse.”

The animal on the screen falls still.

“The mouse that just died,” Midoriya deadpans.

“Admittedly, some of the early results were suboptimal.”

He’s only getting more impatient and concerned as Endeavor attempts to explain.

“Maybe we should fast-forward to the optimal part.”

“That’s you.” Endeavor grins slightly; an attempt to be reassuring. It’s disconcerting. “You’re the optimal part. Because now we have the ability to recharge when they’re running low.”

“Why can’t I remember anything about me?” Midoriya redirects in a last-ditch attempt for some answers. 

This time Todoroki responds before Endeavor gets a chance, “Because of who you were and what you did. Sadly, everything about you is classified-”

Endeavor cuts in again, “And that was all in your past. This is your future. Listen, when I was a boy, I was a champion swimmer. And then when I was 15, I got cancer. They took my arm within six months. Instead of dwelling on what I’d lost, I chose to focus on who I could become.” He rolls up his sleeve to reveal the entirely animatronic appendage. “And so now, when a soldier loses his arm… he gets a better one.” He emphasizes his point by slamming his fist down onto the metal table, denting it.

  


***

  


“This is our rehab facility, where patients come to test the limits of their augmentations.” Endeavor spreads his arms out as he leads Midoriya through a new set of sliding doors. “You’ve already met my Shouto, ex-Navy swimmer. He was part of a rescue deployment during a chemical attack. One laryngeal tracheal reconstruction later, and he now breathes through a clavicle mounted respirator.” Todoroki removes his undone button-up and pulls the collar of his t-shirt down to reveal his implant fluttering as he inhales and exhales. 

“Shinsou Hitoshi here graduated from Yuuei, top of his class.” Endeavor now moves toward a tall man with bushy purple hair and tired, blank eyes going to town on a sparing pole. “He became one of the Army’s most successful marksmen, until a mortar took his sight. We’ve since remedied that with ocular prosthetics. Gear-mounted camera arrays feed directly into his optic nerves. Which means now he sees-“

“Everything.” Shinsou bares his teeth in a smile as he reaches out to shake Midoriya’s hand. “Welcome to the circus.”

Endeavor moves once more, towards a spiky-haired blonde on a treadmill. 

“And finally, Bakugou Katsuki, ex-Navy SEAL. Katsuki lost both his feet to an IED, so we engineered him a new set.”

“Part of Team Six. Took out bin Laden,” The man grins sharply, before red eyes narrow into a heated glare at Shinsou’s quiet, “You and every other Navy SEAL.”

“So we’re wounded warriors.” Midoriya concludes.

“Not wounded. Improved. Enhanced.” Endeavor gloats.

“Sounds cool.” Bakugou jumps off his treadmill, that dangerous grin taking its place on his lips once more, while surprisingly Todoroki smirks back, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya repeats grinning along cheekily, before turning and heading back up the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” Shinsou asks after his retreating back.

He turns around, smile gone. “Oh, I’m gonna go back to sleep. Or maybe I’m just gonna wake up.”

Todoroki turns to his father, arms crossed. “So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“I think we just let him recover. Bakugou, walk him back to his room.”

“Seriously?” He growls, but a look from Endeavor silences any and all complaints. Bakugou purses his lips before following Midoriya up the stairs and showing him his room in tense silence.

It's small and has a metallic aesthetic. Against the far wall is one twin bed, and he finds a singular desk and several cabinets along the adjacent wall. “Wow, they spared every expense.”

“When you’re done with your nap,” Bakugou condescends, “we’ll be downstairs doing our jobs.”  


“Yeah, I don’t even know what my job is.”  


The blonde man takes his leave, “You’ll find out. When you’re ready, Deku—“ Midoriya glares at the insult, “—I’ll tell you everything.”

  


***

  


_Cold._

_Dark._

_Blind._

_Tears._

_Bang._

“NO!”

Emerald green eyes fly open in the dark, and Midoriya bolts upright, panting. _Definitely not going back to sleep_. Instead, he returns to the rehab facility to work off some of his lingering panic and disorientation. He finds a lone punching bag. Familiar. Perfect. He squares up, performing some initial practice sets, exhaling rhythmically. He targets, pulls back, and throws a powerful right jab.

It goes straight through the bag.

Sand cascades to the stone floor as he pulls his fist back out. He stares at it as though it’s an alien appendage, before spying a concrete pillar a few feet away. He appraises it momentarily, and then, with a rush of adrenaline, throws his fist out, connecting solidly with the pillar. 

It cracks. 

Midoriya’s eyes widen in astonishment and no small measure of excitement, as he glances down to see the nanites repairing the damage to his knuckles. He steps back, squaring up once more, before pounding through a set, only stopping when an ominous crack sounds, and he sees the pillar split up toward the ceiling. He steps back, awed and somewhat pleased with himself, when a voice cuts through the now echoing silence. 

“Can’t sleep?”

He tuns to find Todoroki watching him from the doorway, bicolored hair damp, scar shinning under the florescent lighting.  “Yeah, I guess if I was dead yesterday, I wouldn’t be able to sleep either.”

When Midoriya doesn’t respond, Todoroki continues. “I find the water calms me down.” He gestures toward the hallway, where they passed a large sports pool during their tour the day before. “It reminds me of my mother,” his lips quirk up again in that strange, hesitant grin, and he tries for a joke. “What’s that pillar remind you of?”

“Bakugou,” Midoriya responds in-kind and without hesitation, and Todoroki snorts, eyebrows shooting up into the most expressive look Midoriya has seen on him yet. Midoriya decides to reward his kindness with truthfulness.

“Nah, I had a nightmare… Which doesn’t make any sense, ‘cause how can you have a nightmare if you have no memories?”

“Trust me. Soon you’ll remember enough to wish you could forget it again.” He pauses, seemly contemplating revealing more. “You know, we’re all damaged goods here. But this is who I am now. I’ve embraced it… You belong here, Midoriya.” Todoroki looks about as uncomfortable as Midoriya feels with the personal turn this conversation has taken, but he plows on anyway. “Regardless, I’m sure there’s someone out there in the world who cares about you a great deal. You just don’t know it yet.”

“…I hope so.”

…

“You hungry?”

“Very.”

They migrate into the kitchen area for a late night snack and Todoroki begins pulling various containers out of the fridge. 

“I already know what I like-” 

“Which is?” Midoriya interrupts.

“Soba. Cold.” Todoroki deadpans, before continuing, “So I guess it’s time for you to figure out what you like.”

Midoriya makes to question Todoroki about the different types of food laid out in front of him, but is distracted by a rhythmic beat coming through the speakers in the kitchen wall.

_“I can’t seem to face up to the facts…”_

Just the next song on someone’s playlist. So why is his stomach bottoming out? He shakes his head and goes to finish his question, when he hears a woman’s voice whisper _“Izuku-”_

A flash of honey-brown hair. Large tearful eyes. _“Izuku.”_

“Midoriya?”

_“Izuku.”_ A wedding ring. Soft hands. Strawberries.

“Are you okay?”

Socks with sandals. _“Name’s Shigaraki Tomura.”_

**_Ochako._ **

“She has nothing to do with this.” 

“Who?”

“If I knew, I would tell you!”

_“Psycho killer-“_

“I will find you!”

“I need medical in here now… Listen to me-“

“Kill me now! Kill me!” Midoriya slams his fist down on the kitchen bar, crumbling it, lips forming the words echoing in his mind as familiar images and voices flood in. Todoroki takes a step back. “Because you won’t get a second chance.”

The music clicks off. _“Thanks for the advice.”_

_Bang._

Midoriya remembers _._

He comes to himself, spotting the other man eyeing him from his position next to the intercom.

“I’m sorry.” Midoriya apologizes as he moves to exit the room.

Todoroki intercepts him, grabbing his arm cautiously, “It’s alright. Hey, whatever it is, it’s not worth it.”

“You don’t understand, Todoroki… I know why I’m alone.” 

Midoriya pulls his arm free and storms out of the room, snagging some supplies on his way to the parking garage. He jacks an SUV and jumps in.

Tires squeal on asphalt as he puts RHT in his rearview.


End file.
